Insanity At Its Best
by EtherealBeguile
Summary: { Jefferson/OC. } Ophelia escaped from the Storybrooke mental ward. She does not know the man who helped her, but he leaves her alone in the woods to be chased when she stumbles upon a mansion, and a man who can help her figure out the real reason she was locked up. Rated M for any profanity used and in case I decide to add smut.
1. Chapter 1

**~ 'Ello. I decided to do another OUAT fic after finishing What If, because I decided I just love the characters and the show. Heh. So here's the next one, and once again it's an OC XD I hope you enjoy, and drop a cheeky review :p ~**

** _~ For Nicola. My Parabatai, one of my best friends and the Magnus to my Alec. Heh. Love chu.~_**

* * *

Ophelia's chest burned as she attempted to suck precious oxygen into her lungs, her legs burning from her running. She stopped a moment, trying to think of which way to go but the forest was dark, the only light coming from the crescent moon and she could barely see anything.

Over the noise of her erratic breathing she could hear distant voices and decided to begin running again, away from them. She tripped on a branch and fell against a tree, a branch clawing at her face and slicing a cut into her forehead.

She winced but recommenced running. _There must be somewhere I can go. _She thought and as if on cue, she saw a dim light in the distance.

The girl ran towards it, her deep brown hair clinging to her damp forehead, until she reached the house- No, _mansion._

It was a magnificent colonial mansion with a stone driveway lined with different plants and shrubbery.

As the voices came ever closer she pushed through the stitch burning her side and the ache of the wound on her forehead as she sprinted up the driveway and frantically banged on the thick front door.

A few moments later it swung open to a man, not very old looking with light brown hair and azure irises that were fixated on her own dark ones, his head tilting in a curious manner. "Can I help you?" He asked.

Ophelia looked nervously over her shoulder. She didn't want to alarm this man by forcing herself into his house. He'd only give her up to the men chasing her. "Please help me." She replied with pleading eyes.

A soft sigh escaped him as he looked over the girl. She was wearing all white but her clothes and pale skin were caked with mud. Her forehead had a small gash that was oozing blood and he could tell she'd been wiping at it by the way the blood was smeared across her brow.

Taking pity on her, he opened the door a little more and stood back to gesture for her to enter. She did so and once she was inside and the door was closed she simply stared at the man. He was in his pajamas. "I'm sorry I woke you." She whispered.

A weak laugh escaped him in response. "Ah, you didn't. I couldn't sleep anyway." A ghost of a smile flashed across her lips.

His own lips curved into a small smile as he noticed how strange she looked stood in his house. The man kept his house immaculate and here she was, all dirty and caked in mud. Her hair was in a loose braid that fell down her back and leaves and small twigs stuck out from it.

He was about to say something else when a loud knock on the door came. _It's them._ Ophelia told herself, body shaking with fear. If they found her, she'd have to go with them...

The man noticed the fear in her eyes and expression and a frown creased his forehead. He lifted a hand and gestured to the door behind her. "Go in there." He whispered and she obeyed, running across the hall until she reached the door, cracking it open and sliding inside and out of sight.

She heard voices talking but couldn't hear what they were saying. Her deep brown eyes scanned the room she was in. It was dimly lit by candlelight and wall sconces. Two antique couches and a coffee table were placed around a warm fire and a grand piano stood proud in the center of the room.

Her fingers itched to touch it, to play on the keys, though she didn't know why. She'd never played a piano in her life. Ophelia walked towards it and placed her hand on it, a small smile curving her lips.

A gasp escaped her as she heard the door open and she turned on her heel, a soft sigh escaping her once she saw it was only the man who owned this beautiful house.

"I bought you tea. I had a pot already made for me, but I figured you could use a cup as well." He smiled a welcoming smile and carried the silver tray over to the coffee table near the fire, the flames reflecting off of the metal and making it gleam.

Ophelia silently walked over to the couch opposite the one he was on, slumping into the soft cushions. She was so unaccustomed to these sort of areas. In fact, she'd never been somewhere so grand in all her life. That of it she could remember anyway.

She watched him quietly as he began to pour tea into two intricate china teacups.

He was about to offer her sugar when she blurted out, "Why are you helping me? You don't even know me."

The man sat back and rubbed his cleanly shaven chin in contemplation for a moment before he lifted and dropped a shoulder in a shrugging motion. "You needed help. Those men didn't tell me why they wanted you, but I'm not going to hand an injured girl over to them. It would be wrong."

"Thank you." Her voice was barely a whisper and he nodded in response before going back to making the tea. "You take sugar?" He asked.

"I- I don't know...I've never had tea before." A small, almost embarrassed laugh escaped her. They'd only given her basic rations at the hospital. She wasn't allowed luxuries.

"Really?! Why then you have to try some." As if knowing what she'd like, he dropped in a sugar cube and stirred it a moment before nudging it toward her. "Careful. It's hot." He said as she lifted it into her hand, two fingers looping through the handle.

She took a small sip and though it stung her tongue, the warmth felt amazing as it trickled down her throat and into her chilled body. "It delicious." She murmured and a wide smile lifted the corners of his lips.

Ophelia placed it back onto the tray as he stuck out his hand for her to shake. She'd only shaken a couple of hands in her time, only that of the doctors.

Their hands were rough and wrinkled but when she took this man's into her own filthy one it felt soft and ... Young, she thought. "I'm Jefferson."

"Ophelia. Ophelia DeRayne."

* * *

"You can stay as long as you need to." Jefferson said to the girl as he led her into a bedroom. To her it seemed even larger than their exercise area at the hospital, though that was only small itself. The walls were papered with cream wallpaper that had leaves of gold decorated onto them. A king-size bed stood in the middle of the room and there was a chestnut wardrobe in one corner of the room that matched the two bedside tables.

"Oh, and feel free to take a shower. Towels are on the towel rack in the bathroom." Jefferson pointed to a white door at one side of the room. Ophelia's forehead creased a moment in confusion. He knew nothing of her yet he was allowing her to stay in his house.

She simply nodded and agreed to see him in the morning for breakfast. With that, he exited and she was left to simply wonder around the room. She cracked the door of the wardrobe open to find an assortment of women's clothes in there.

Different colours and fabrics that all looked beautiful to the eye after she'd spent so long in her simple all white outfit that the nurses gave her.

After wondering around the room she made her way into the en suite bathroom. It was tiled with white on the walls and floors. The toilet, bath and sink were all white too, but the shower stood out in the room with its metallic look that matched the mirrored cabinet hanging above the sink.

After shrugging off her clothes and switching on the shower she took a moment to look catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Mud caked her hair, face and skin and bedded itself in her nails. Dried blood was smeared across her forehead though Jefferson had stitched the wound and leaves and small twigs jutted out of her hair.

She pulled out her braid and ran her fingers through it to comb out the tangles and remove the leaves and twigs before she stepped into the enveloping warmth of the shower streaming down on her naked form.

It felt so good, so clean as she washed away the dirt on her.

She closed her eyes and tipped her chin so the heated water kissed her face. _What now? _Ophelia thought. _Should I stay or go? Well...One night won't hurt, I'm sure._ But she resolved that it would only be for a single night, and then she'd leave. She didn't want to outstay her welcome in this magnificent place.


	2. Chapter 2

Ophelia's brows furrowed as she found herself in a forest lit by bright sunlight filtering through the leaves and branches, a soft breeze licking at her loose brown locks. It looked like the one she had been in the night before, only from what she knew, that's what most forests looked like.

She heard a nearby cry for help and her breath hitched in her throat but she decided to check it out. She couldn't leave someone in trouble.

With her breath coming out in heavy pants of apprehension, she made her way toward the noise. Ophelia hid behind the thick trunk of a tree and peered around the side of it. There were 3 people there. A middle-aged man, his young wife and a woman who had her back to Ophelia.

The man was tall, muscly and had skin that was deeply tanned; his eyes the shape of almonds and a pale green in colour. He had cropped black hair and wore simple workers rags.

His wife was a head shorter and had long silvery blonde hair that made her pale skin seem a shade darker than it was. Her eyes were wide, a paler green than her husbands and she too wore rags that fit loosely and blew in the breeze as she clung helplessly to her husband's arm.

The other woman, however was tall and thin. Her dark brown hair was pinned up and a few curls that didn't stay up cascaded down her back. She wore an old fashioned dress that was black and patterned with swirls and flowers. It was corseted and thick skirts puffed out at the waist.

Though she didn't seem very scary from behind, the couple cowered in fear from her, pleading with her.

Ophelia stood by and watched as events unfurled in front of her. The woman hesitated a moment before dipping a hand into the mans chest. He jolted forward a fraction and when she removed it, a glassy and beating heart was there a moment before the woman balled her fist and the heart turned to ash, the man falling to the floor and going limp.

His wife wailed and fell to her knees in anguish, weeping for her fallen husband. The woman cackled in response, clearly enjoying watching this woman cry for her love.

The woman turned to leave, a smirk on her lips, and when she did, Ophelia gasped in horror. _That's me._

Her deep brown eyes were wide with shock as she looked at her other self, dark eyes made darker with black eye-shadow and lips painted a bright red.

She looked evil. Ophelia let out an earsplitting scream... Or tried to. No sound came from her no matter how many times she tried to shout and scream for help for the poor man on the floor. But he was dead and nobody could hear her.

Strong hands gripped her shoulders and she was shaken awake, a thin sheen of sweat on her that made her loose hair cling to her skin. She attempted to shove the person off her at first but once her eyes focused to see it was Jefferson, she just pushed to a sitting position.

"You okay?" He asked as he slumped down onto the bed next to her, eyebrows knitted together. She nodded.

"What happened?" Her voice croaked as she spoke; her throat was dry.

"You were having a nightmare. You were screaming so I came to see if you were okay." A small smile curved his lips and she returned it for a moment before the memory of her nightmare came to mind.

"It was so horrible." Ophelia said, he dark glance flickering to the duvet as she felt almost dazed. "I dreamt I took someones heart out and crushed it. Why would I do that?" Her eyes began to feel moist as she looked up to Jefferson.

His expression held a flicker of bewilderment for a moment before changing into one of worry, his shoulders moving in a small shrug. "I don't know. But it was just a dream Ophelia. Why don't you go back to sleep? I'll make you breakfast when you wake up."

She heaved a heavy sigh and nodded. "I'm sorry I woke you." She mumbled as he stood to leave and shook his head to gesture all was okay.

He flashed her a friendly smile which she returned, head sinking into the pillows once more when he was gone. It took some time but eventually she fell back to sleep, hoping the dream didn't return.

* * *

Ophelia braided her hair the next morning, not bothering to change out of her pajama shorts and over-sized shirt as she headed downstairs.

She'd had no more nightmares luckily, but what her mind could remember of the nightmare she _did _have ran through her mind. She sighed. The more she thought about it, the more she had a sickly feeling in her stomach.

An uncontrollable smile curved the corners of her plush lips as she made her way to the kitchen. From outside in the hall she could hear music and the clatter of pans. It was a sound she'd never heard before being in the wards, but one, she though, she liked.

It sounded like how she imagined home to sound like. She'd never known her parents. The only life she knew was one inside the hospital, locked in a cell. They only interaction she was allowed was for her to study and if she was being seen by the doctor.

"Good morning!" He said, voice loud and cheerful as she padded into the kitchen.

It was modern and sleek, but beautiful. He danced around it in his plaid pajama bottoms and grey shirt as he finished serving breakfast. Jefferson hadn't known why he was in such a good mood, but he just...Was. It was the first time in a long time he'd felt this good.

She slid onto one of the chairs at the dining table as he bought over breakfast. A steaming teacup and cutlery were already placed before her and were soon accompanied by a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and a few sausages.

Ophelia blinked down at it, causing Jefferson to say, "You don't like it? I'm sorry, I should have checked what you like before I-"

"No, no." She cut him off, a shy smile curving her lips. "It's just...At the hospital we never had food this good."

"Well, as long as you stay here I'll cook you good food. It's time you had some." He chuckled out. Jefferson had lived in the house for 28 years alone with his thoughts and longing for his daughter, Grace. It was nice to finally have some company and he wanted to be a good host.

"Thank you." She replied and began to eat. It tasted so good and she wished she could savour each delicious bite.

* * *

When they were done, she helped him with the dishes before taking a shower and dressing in simple black jeans and a white t-shirt. She'd never cared about fashion being in the ward, so she didn't know what to go with. This seemed like a good bet.

She stalked downstairs and found a note on the kitchen island that read;

_Gone shopping. Won't be long. Help yourself to whatever you need! - Jefferson. _

Ophelia sighed. _What am I supposed to do?_ She questioned herself and began to explore the house. She found empty rooms here and there, and a room filled with hats. She had tried a few on to amuse herself.

She didn't know how long she'd been exploring the manner, but it was strangely the most fun she'd had. Eventually, she found herself in the room from last night.

The girl padded across the room to the grand piano and caressed the cool side again. She bit her lip a moment, hesitating before propping open the lid and taking a seat on the stool.

Allowing her eyelids to flutter shut, she let her hands guide her across the keys. A beautiful melody filled the room and a weak laugh escaped her. _How do I know this?_ She wondered but the thought faded as she lost herself in the music, fingers dancing across the ivory keys that were cool to the touch.

Once the melody was finished, her fingers hovering over the keys, her eyelids fluttered open, a gleeful laugh escaping her that was halted as she noticed Jefferson watching her.

He was leaned against the frame of the door and waved a hand as she jumped with surprise. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." He murmured and made his way over to her, plonking down next to her and asking in a curious voice, "Where'd you learn to play like that?"

"I...Don't know. It was the first thing that came to mind."

"Do you know any more?"

She shook her head in response.

"Hmm. I could teach you, if you'd like?" He said and her face as good as lit up, a beaming grin spreading across her face that he couldn't help but return as she nodded eagerly. "I'd like that very much, Jefferson."


	3. Chapter 3

"You wanted to see me?" Jefferson grumbled as he shoved his way into Regina's office later that day. He received a call, and decided to come in case it was about Grace. The woman gestured to the chair opposite her own, a scowl on her features.

Jefferson slumped into place and arched a brow expectantly at the mayor. "Where is she?" She simply asked.

"Who?" Jefferson decided to play dumb, knowing exactly who the mayor was on about. She pursed her painted lips a moment in attempt to calm herself.

"The girl. Ophelia. Don't lie to me Jefferson, I know she must have asked you for help."

"Ah, her." His lips curled into a shadow of a smirk. "I sent her to town this morning. Told her she'd be safe there."

"Why? You knew I'd find her."

"She means nothing to me. Why should I care what you do to her?" He lifted and dropped a shoulder in a manner of feigned nonchalance.

Her glance was skeptical a moment as she scanned over him with dark eyes. "Why's she so important, Your Majesty?" He questioned after a moments silence. "Who is she?"

"My sister." Her response took him aback, and he stared at her for so long that she felt the need to elaborate. "My younger sister Ophelia. She ran away from home, and my mother disowned her. It's why nobody knows about her."

Jefferson's brows furrowed in confusion as he attempted to make sense of the news. "But... Her surname's DeRayne."

This made Regina roll her eyes and scoff as she spoke. "She must have changed her name."

"Why do you want her? The few moments I spent with her she seemed... Nice." He muttered, thinking back to earlier in the day when he'd caught her at the piano. She seemed so alive, so happy, so...Free.

"Nice? _Nice?!_ Dear Jefferson, she's only like that because that's what she's like in _this _land. She knows nothing of our land, and I'd like to keep it that way." He simply stared at her with questioning azure irises and she continued. Who could he tell? Nobody would believe him.  
"My sister, after she left, was found by Rumpelstiltskin. He saw in her the same power he saw in me; taught her how to use it. She became powerful, but was consumed by that power. Ophelia was insane. She would kill anyone she came across if she felt they simply looked at her in the wrong way.  
"There was one night when she killed a mans husband for simple _enjoyed _it.I mean, I'm no saint but Ophelia - Ophelia is a danger to everyone."

Though he knew she wouldn't lie about something like this, his mind was knotting with disbelief. The woman Regina was describing was nowhere near the same girl living in his house. The Ophelia he knew was brilliant, funny, smart, beautiful and kind. Not evil.

She could see his eyes filled with disbelief, sensing that this man knew more about her sister than he was letting. "Jefferson...If you know something, you _have_ to tell me. She's dangerous. If she remembers... It would be a disaster."

With a heavy sigh, he stood, deliberately avoiding the mayor's piercing gaze. "I'll let you know if I hear from her." His voice was barely a mumble and he stalked out of her office, eager to see Ophelia for himself to remind himself that he wasn't going to believe the queen's lies.

* * *

A wail escaped Ophelia as black smoke surrounded her, suffocating most of the oxygen from the air. She cracked open a window and using a dishtowel, she wafted the thick black fog of smoke from her face and pulled the charred cake from the oven.

"What happened?" Jefferson asked as he ran into the kitchen, clearly out of breath from rushing to see what was wrong. The glanced into each others eyes a moment and his eyebrows knitted with slight worry as he checked she was okay.

"I burnt the cake." She said, biting nervously down on her bottom lip. His glance flickered to the block of charred cake a moment before they rested on her again. Both their lips curved into smiled until eventually they were in fits of laughter.

"It's not funny!" She said and lightly swatted his arm once he was by her side. He poked the cake and laughed even more. "It's rock hard, Ophelia!" He spoke through laughs.

"I know! I don't know what happened, I followed the recipe... I think."

"You're hopeless." He said in an endearing manner. Regina must have some other reason for wanting Ophelia back, for how could one so amazing and incompetent at everyday skills be evil? Granted, she was under the influence of the curse, but still... There was no way this girl was evil.

* * *

Fire blazed and crackled around Ophelia as the simple cottages of a village were being burned to the ground.

Loud screeches and cries for help filled the air as people scuttled around, searching for an escape they would not find. The only way out of the village was blocked by a handful of shadows that took the smoky form of men. Anyone who drew near them would suffer a painful blow and die instantly.

The girl felt tears spring to her eyes at the horrific scene surrounding her. Men, women, children and old people; all to suffer death by fire or shadow.

Ophelia had to clench her eyes shut as she saw a blazing man run in front of her, screaming from the agony of the flames burning his skin. She could hear wails from inside the cottages, but could do nothing to help those locked inside. Whenever she tried to edge closer, she was halted by an invisible force-field that kept her inside a circle in the center of the village.

A ball of fire came from her left and hit a cottage that until then had survived being set alight, its straw roof catching fire instantly.

She twisted around to see where it came from and a figure emerged from the darkness. A single tear cascaded down her cheek as her eyes rested on the familiar face she'd seen in the mirror each day. Only this one was so much darker.

Deep crimson lips and dark eyeliner that made her brown eyes seem black. Her hair fell in loose tendrils around her and a devious smirk was set upon her lips, her eyes alight with amusement and joy.

Horror was etched into Ophelia's features as she watched herself approach a weeping little boy sat alone in the middle of a road. He had a mop of blonde hair and was covered in dirt and soot.

She watched herself go to the boy and soothe him, making him think that he was okay and that she would save him; only to drive a hand into his chest and take out a glittering heart that beat in her hand. As her fingers coiled and closed around the heart, Ophelia could take it no more.

She snapped her eyes shut and when the opened them, the boy lay limp on the floor, her other self brushing ash from her hand. "NO!" Ophelia scream, tears falling from her eyes as she desperately tried to escape her cylinder prison.

It seemed like her other self could hear her desperate wail as she sauntered over to Ophelia, mouth set in a hard line. "Look at how weak you've become." She scoffed.

"You didn't have to kill him as well." Ophelia replied through gritted teeth, a sob almost escaping her as her eyes narrowed into slits.

"No, _you_ didn't have to kill him. I _am_ you, Ophelia, whether you like it or not. Remember this version of you and you'll see." Her other self spat back to her, both of them almost falling to the floor as the ground was taken over by a violent earthquake. "Remember!" Her other self screamed to her as Ophelia was pulled from that world to hands shaking her.

"Wake up, Ophelia!" A deep voice boomed and her eyes fluttered open. She stared up at Jefferson for a moment before tears sprung to her eyes at the memory of her nightmare. "I killed a whole village." Her tone sounded no more than a whisper and Jefferson pulled her into his arms.

Ophelia buried her face into his neck, sniffling as her nose ran with the tears that fell from her lashes. His arms around her felt strong, protective almost and the fear she had from the dream soon fluttered away.

He pulled away first to examine her at arms length, brows tightly knitted together with concern. "It was just a nightmare." His words seemed to assure her just a little, but she couldn't rid herself of the feeling of how real it was.

Jefferson brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheeks, absorbing her tears with it. Ophelia blinked up at him, a weak smile curving her roseate lips. "Will you stay with me?"

He nodded in response and climbed onto the bed next to her, draping an arm over her shoulder and pressing a feather-light kiss to her forehead. "Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

She did not reply, only listened to the gentle thumping of his heart inside his chest as her head lay upon it.

For the first time since she could remember, she felt safe. She felt as though Jefferson would protect her, not just from the nightmares that tortured her every night, but from everything else that intended to harm her too. And that made her feel happier than she had ever been.


End file.
